


Songs

by kiarcheo



Category: Glee
Genre: Berrittana, F/F, Faberrez, Faberry, Faberry Week, Fapezberry - Freeform, Foursome, Foursome - F/F/F/F, Julyberry, Multi, Pezberry, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/F, brittberry, faberrittana, pieberry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 16,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiarcheo/pseuds/kiarcheo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of works of various lenght, usually one-shots. Femslash pairings: Pezberry, Faberry, Brittberry, Berrittana, Julyberry, Faberrittana, Fapezberry and others.  More info inside. Updated with Ch. 22: Pezberry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My favorite things - Faberry

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a collection of works inspired by Glee songs.
> 
> Sometimes I change the context, or who sang it or to whom, or I use only the title or some lines of the song...To make it short, whatever it come to my mind when I hear the song or think about it used in a Glee context.
> 
> Some shorter, some longer, each chapter will stand alone, unless I specify otherwise. They can be set in AU, high school, future…
> 
> Femslash, with Rachel paired with one or more of the girls, meaning: Pezberry, Faberry, Brittberry/Pieberry, Berrittana, Faberrittana, Julyberry, various friendship pairings…

”Hey, where are they? The heir and the girl?” Sebastian elbowed his fellow reporter.

Dave shrugged, looking around as they followed Queen Judy through the hospital hallways. “No idea.”

“Let’s go and find them.”

“And what if we can’t?”

“At least we won’t be bored to death here,” Sebastian said snappily, but quietly. “We already have enough for an article and we’re going to write the same things anyway. But if we find them, we could possibly get a scoop.” He smirked giddily at the thought.

Dave looked at him pensively and nodded. “Let’s go,”

.

“Stop.” Sebastian grabbed Dave’s jacket. “Here.” He motioned with his head towards the door.

“The children’s ward?” Dave raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t you hear that?”

Dave listened in silence. “Music?” He didn’t seem surprised.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I always forget you were never in a choir. This isn’t just music. This is someone singing. Very well, if I may add.”

“Oh… you think that…?”

“I’m fairly sure… Let’s find out.”

.

Rachel was sashaying around the room with a little girl in her arms. Meanwhile Princess Quinn was looking at her adoringly with another girl sitting in her lap.

_Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes_

Rachel stopped in front of Quinn, who shook her head with a smile. She was wearing a white sundress with blue highlights.

_Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eye lashes_

Rachel tweaked the little girl’s nose, making her giggle, before lovingly caressing Quinn’s cheek. Snapping out of it, she put down her load, a boy immediately raising his arms to be picked up too.  
  
 _Silver white winters that melt into spring  
These are a few of my favorite things!_  
 _When the dog bites, when the bee stings_  
  
Rachel stopped her twirling in front of group of children huddled on one bed and snapped her teeth exaggeratedly. It prompted their laughter, which only increased when she started poking them.

_When I’m feeling sad,_   
_I simply remember_   
_My favorite things_   
_And then I don’t feel so bad!_

Everyone clapped and Rachel put down the boy before bowing. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Miss Rachel?” A little boy pulled at her skirt.

“Yes, honey?” She smiled down at him.

“Marry me?” He looked at her hopefully.

“Oh.” Rachel bit her lip to suppress laughter, and knelt down. “I’m honored, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He frowned and pouted.

“Because when you’re old enough to marry, I’ll be old and wrinkled. You’ll find someone else, a girl or a boy maybe, who will be young, beautiful and just perfect for you.” She stroked his cheek affectionately.

“You’re pretty. Always,” the boy replied.

“Little man, can you come here?” Quinn called out to him as she deposited the girl on her lap onto the chair near to her.

“You’re right,” she told him once he was standing next to her. “She is pretty–really pretty,” she said and smiled at Rachel, “and she always will be, even when she’s as old as a grandmother,”

“See! The princess says it too,” He looked at Rachel triumphantly.

“But–” Quinn caught his attention again–”I love her. Very much so.”

He frowned and looked at her, squeezing his little eyes shut.

“So please, leave her to me,” she requested, smiling, “Because I wouldn’t be able to live without her.”

“You love her?” He turned to Rachel.

“I do.”

“You marry her?” He looked at his feet.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Quinn interrupted and then looked at the other children, who nodded. “Do you?” She looked at the boy, who reluctantly nodded as well.

“Nobody knows it yet–” she looked around with a conspiratorial air–”but I asked her to marry me.”

They all looked at Rachel, who laughed. “And I said yes.”

The girls and some boys squealed, everyone clapping and starting to talk together.

“Shhh.” The young women tried to calm them down. “We don’t want them to scold us and send us away.”

When they quieted down enough, a girl shyly asked, “Can we see the ring?”

“Of course.” Rachel beamed. She then presented her hand proudly, oblivious to the two men standing in the doorway.

Then a camera flashed.


	2. I kissed a girl - Pezberry

"So… did you all have to audition to get in?" Rory asked his new teammates curiously.

There were nods all around the choir room.

"Even we did," Kurt said.

"Oh." The Irish boy looked confused.

"What Kurt means to say is that even us, the original members—" Rachel gestured to herself, Mercedes, Kurt, and Tina—"had to perform a song. Even if it was obvious that we would be accepted."

"Because you were the only ones that showed up." Quinn snickered.

"Because Mr Schuester obviously recognized our superior talent," Rachel corrected, glaring at her.

"You said it, diva," Mercedes said, and Kurt nodded.

"What did you sing?" Rory asked inquiringly.

"'On My Own', from the musical Les Misérables, based on the novel by Victor Hugo that goes by the same name. It's performed by Eponine, who—" Rachel stopped as Santana raised a hand in front of her face.

"Only the title, _por favor_ ," Santana requested. "We don't need to hear it again." Puck and Artie nodded in agreement, while Quinn rolled her eyes. "I certainly don't," Santana added under her breath, earning a glare from Rachel.

"I sang 'Respect' by Aretha Franklin," Mercedes continued.

"'Mr. Cellophane' from the musical Chicago." Kurt chimed in.

"Tina, what was your audition song?" Mike asked, realizing that he didn't know.

"'I Kissed A Girl'." Tina blushed as she said it.

Everyone turned to look at Brittany, who stopped twirling hair around her finger when she realized everyone was looking at her. "What?" she asked confusedly.

"Tina kissed a girl," Finn said.

"Tina said no such thing," Rachel protested quickly. "She simply said that she sang the song 'I Kissed A Girl', but that doesn't mean that—"

"It wasn't me." Brittany interrupted Rachel's speech. "Sorry." The blonde shrugged.

"So…" Puck leaned forward, waggling his eyebrows. "Did you like it?"

"Well, Rach is a great—" Tina stopped, eyes wide, as Rachel gestured wildly, her hand making a slashing motion against her neck.

"Wait!" Quinn exclaimed, looking back and forth between Tina and Rachel. "Rach as in Rachel Berry? You kissed Rachel Berry?" she asked incredulously, laughing.

"I really don't see what's so funny about the notion of Tina and I kissing." Rachel crossed her arms.

"Me neither," Santana said sharply.

"Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me…" Tina chanted, moving to hide behind Mike.

"She won't. Don't worry," Rachel assured her. "Right, Santana?" When she didn't receive an answer, she turned towards her. "Santana?"

"I think she's trying to murder Tina with her eyes," Brittany commented helpfully.

"Really, Santana, what's the big deal?" Finn asked. "Mike seems fine with it."

"It's like in the song." Brittany perked up. " _Hope my boyfriend don't mind it_ ," she sang.

"Well, I mind it. A lot." Santana growled. "I'm the only girl who gets to kiss Rachel."

"Oh," Brittany sighed, disappointed. "She was next on my list."


	3. Sexy and I know it - Faberrez/Fapezberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossover with Pitch Perfect. Rachel/Quinn/Santana, hints of a future Beca/Chloe/Aubrey

"No."

The Bellas were, once again, reunited in Beca's room. Having returned early from spring break, they were trying to convince Aubrey to let Beca back into the group.

"Don't worry. She'll realize that you helped us in the end," Chloe said.

"That's what I told her, but no… Of course she never listens to me," a voice complained, before Aubrey could say anything about Chloe's statement.

"Rachel!" Beca turned around in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"The same as what I was doing this morning, and yesterday, and the day before and—"

"Yup, got it." Beca interrupted her quickly. "I meant, shouldn't you be out with..." She trailed off.

"Have you ever been out in public with children?" Rachel asked.

"No, and thank God for that."

"Well," Rachel continued, "they are worse, because when they fight they throw insults and try to slap each other."

"I still don't see why you put up with them." Beca shook her head, smirking.

"Oh, you know why." Rachel smirked back. "Right, girls?"

"What?" Quinn and Santana arrived.

"Right?" Rachel repeated, looking at them pointedly.

"Of course," they answered. Beca sniggered and made whipping sounds.

"About what?" Santana ignored the DJ.

"Everything."

Everyone chuckled at Rachel's answer.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Okay, but what about this particular occasion?"

"Oh. Well, I told Beca that Aubrey would realize that by changing their performance, Beca actually helped them and that Aubrey would forgive her. It's like what happened to me."

"What happened to you?"

"You're Chloe, right?" Rachel asked the redhead who asked the question. "Well, we were trying to get more members for our glee club, and our coach wanted us to sing a disco song. I mean, really? What kind of person would think 'Le Freak' is a good song choice to convince teenagers that show choir isn't lame and that they should join?" Rachel grew fervent.

"Even Kurt thought it was really gay," Quinn pointed out, putting a hand on Rachel's arm to calm her down.

"And he's not called Lady Hummel for nothing," Santana added.

Rachel continued, "I suggested a number that would give the students exactly what they wanted…"

"Blood?" Lily suggested.

"Even better: sex," Rachel said.

"I like the sound of this already," Stacie said happily.

"Anyway, we performed Push it, Mr. Schuester got angry at me, and then everyone in the club blamed me even though they had agreed with it in the first place." Rachel rolled her eyes. "Whatever. We achieved our goal in the end, because more people joined the club and we were then able to compete." Rachel finished the story with a smile on her face.

"I think it had more to do with the fact that you basically dry humped Quinn's boyfriend on stage and they got jealous," Beca said, gesturing to Quinn and Santana.

"Whatever," Rachel said dismissively, waving away Beca's comment. "If they had joined from the start they would have been the ones I dry humped on that stage. It's their loss."

"Hey!" Quinn and Santana protested.

"So you dumped your boyfriend?" Cynthia Rose asked Quinn.

"Of course not." Quinn looked at her like she was crazy. "He was dumb enough not to question it whenever I stopped his attempts of making out to pray."

"Pray?" The Bellas were confused.

"Yes, pray. Plus he spent half his time chasing Rachel's skirt and ignoring me."

"As did like, half of the school." Santana scowled at the memories.

"What can I say? I'm sexy and they knew it." Rachel smirked.

"The only good thing about your skirts was that they were too short for him to catch them."

"I didn't hear you complaining at the time, Santana."

"Wait. I don't understand… Quinn and Finn were together, but Finn wanted Rachel, who—"

"Let's just say that Finn was their beard, and they are all gay," Beca interrupted, simplifying it for Stacie.

"I'm bisexual," Rachel corrected.

"We're just curious," Amy said defensively.

"It seems interesting," Cynthia Rose said.

"Yeah, if you're into badly written soap operas." Beca rolled her eyes.

"So… you three… like a threesome?" Stacie asked.

"We prefer to call it polyamorous relationship. Threesome makes it sound like some one-night stand or sexual experiment," Rachel explained, "and it's not."

"Yep. Definitely not a one night stand… and we definitely don't do it just once a night either." Santana winked.

"Do you ever think about anything other than sex?" Beca asked her.

"Have you seen my girls?" Santana retorted.

"I've seen Rachel." Beca smirked as Santana and Quinn glared at her.

"What?" Aubrey asked, failing to keep the shock out of her voice. She shared a look with Chloe. "I mean–" Aubrey cleared her throat– "how did you all meet?"

"Beca was the first to know about us. She was totally supportive, right from the start." Rachel smiled knowingly at the blonde. "That is, if you're wondering."

"What? Why would I want to know that?" Aubrey squeaked.

"Yeah, why would you?" Santana looked at Rachel. "It's not like blondie wants to bang midget and ginger over here or anything."


	4. Tonight - Pezberry

 “ _Tonight_ …”

 Blaine and Rachel finished the song and looked out at their audience, composed of the whole cast of West Side Story and the few members of the New Directions and the Trouble Tones that weren’t involved in the musical but had joined the rehearsal anyway. They saw Coach Beiste surreptitiously wipe away a tear.

 “You were amazing, as always,” Finn said, smiling boyishly at Rachel. The action earned quite a few eye rolls from the others.

“You guys are good. I can’t deny that,” Artie said to Blaine and Rachel. “However, it seemed…lacking.”

“Now, Artie—” Emma started.

Shelby interrupted her, “He’s right.”

“Lacking in what way?” Rachel asked, not pleased, but determined to correct whatever was sullying her performance.

“I don’t know,” Artie admitted.

“I do,” Brittany said, gaining confused and incredulous looks.  “Blaine, can you sit in front of me? Here.” She pointed to the chair. Blaine obliged, though he was perplexed. “Rachel,” Brittany continued, “close your eyes. Now sing it again from the start.”

To everyone’s surprise, Rachel simply nodded and did what she was told. She took a readying breath, closed her eyes and waited for the music to start.

_Tonight, tonight_   
_It all began tonight_   
_I saw you and the world went away._   
_Tonight, tonight_   
_There's only you tonight_   
_What you are, what you do, what you say_

Today, all day I had the feeling 

Rachel’s eyes snapped open as somebody that wasn’t Blaine sang Tony’s part. She knew whom the voice belonged to, but she needed to see it with her own eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. And she wasn’t. Santana was really coming towards her, singing.

A miracle would happen   
I know now I was right

_For here you are_   
_And what was just a world is a star_   
_Tonight_

Everyone in the choir room went from being shocked at hearing Santana sing instead of Blaine to being shocked at hearing how good the girls’ voices sounded together.

_Tonight, tonight _   
_ The world is full of light _   
_ With suns and moons all over the place _   
_ Tonight, tonight _   
_ The world is wild and bright _   
_ Going mad _   
_ Shooting sparks into space _   
_ Today, the world was just an address _   
_ A place for me to live in _   
_ No better than all right _

Brittany saw that everyone was entranced by the performance and relaxed, finally removing her hands from over Blaine’s mouth, where she had put them to stop the boy from jumping in.

_But here you are_   
_And what was just a world is a star_   
_Tonight_

Santana took Rachel’s hands and brought it to her chest.

 _Good night, good night_  
 _Sleep well and when you dream_  
 _Dream of me_  
 _Tonight_

The song ended, but nobody moved, still stunned. 

“Wow,” someone breathed, amazed.

 “Is it too late to replace Tony?”


	5. Respect - Brittberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during 'The Rhodes not taken'

"Who's ready for another exciting Glee meeting?" Mr. Schuester exclaimed enthusiastically, his arms held open.

"Wait, where's Rachel?" Finn asked.

"She left. Don't you remember?" Kurt asked, annoyed.

"And thank God for that," Mercedes muttered.

Finn stood up. "No. She said she's coming back."

Groans followed his announcement.

"Finn, where are you going?" Mr Schuester asked.

"The auditorium," the boy replied, before leaving the room. Soon, all the others followed him.

"Rachel."

"Hello, Finn," the girl greeted him, before resuming her warm-ups.

"What are you doing?" he asked after a while, seeing that it didn't look like she was going to stop anytime soon.

"I think it's obvious. Didn't you listen to me when I explained, in detail, the importance of having a proper warm up regime to prepare before embarking on a singing session?" She looked at him, annoyed at being interrupted and at his complete disregard of her instructions.

"I—" he flushed and stuttered. "I mean, we have glee right now."

"I'm aware of that. And it makes me even more curious as to the reason you're here right now," she said primly, and then she noticed the rest of the group. "I'm sorry. Were you scheduled to use the auditorium?"

"You said you were coming back," Finn said.

"I said no such thing."

"Yes, you did. I asked you. And then we went on a date," Finn stated, as if that explained everything. Quinn gasped, along with Mercedes and Kurt.

"First of all, I accepted your invitation only because I was under the impression that you were going to apologize to me for your appalling behavior, and possibly for your club mates' too. Secondly, I have enough self-respect to not come back to Glee just because you asked me to and then took me out. Furthermore, I have no idea why I should consider it a date, since you're still dating Quinn - which, by the way, you conveniently avoided informing me about - and I don't condone cheating in any way or form."

Finn looked at her, confused, before focusing on the thing he understood more clearly: Rachel having issues with him dating Quinn. He tried to conceal the fact that he was smiling victoriously inside at Rachel's jealousy. "Who told you?" he asked. "It was Jew-Fro, wasn't it? You know how he is," he said, hoping to convince her that Jew-Fro was lying and just trying to keep them apart.

"It was me," Brittany spoke up, amidst the group.

"Britt?" Santana said, echoing everyone's thoughts. She looked at her best friend, confused.

"What? Why?" Finn almost whined.

Brittany shrugged. "I like Rachel. Since you're dating Quinn, you can't date Rachel. If you can't date Rachel, then Rachel is single, and that I can date her."


	6. Jessie's girl - Pezberry

_Jessie is a friend._

The music started and the glee club was still stuck, looking at Santana in surprise. They couldn't actually believe that Santana had stood up, and without giving anyone a chance to say anything asked - well, more like stated - that she was going to sing.

Mr. Schuester was torn between being happy that one of the more reluctant students was showing initiative and getting into the spirit of glee, and being worried about her intentions, because of her, well, choice of song.

Santana mentally scoffed at their expressions and continued singing.

_Yeah, I know he's been A good friend of mine_

Not really. Or rather, not at all. She hated him. She hated his stupid clothes, his stupid hair, his stupid arrogance, his stupid voice… Basically, she just hated him. Brittany saw him once and was now convinced that Rachel was dating Schue's son. There were so many wrong things with that.

_Jessie's got himself a girl And I want to make her mine_

Santana looked straight at Rachel, whose eyes widened in surprise. No one else noticed the interaction; they were all reeling in shock at Santana's admission. Did she just come out as a lesbian?

Well, everyone except Brittany, who already knew what Santana was up to.

_And she's watching him with those eyes_

Santana brought a hand to her heart and leant against the piano, pretending she was feeling faint.

_And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it_

She mimicked a shiver of excitement that became a shudder of disgust as she sang the next lines.

_And he's holding her in his arms late, Late at night_

She lowered her voice, her energy dimmed, as she ended the refrain.

_I play along with the charade,_

She walked around the room slowly.

_There doesn't seem to be a reason to change_

She shrugged.

_You know, I feel so dirty When they start talking cute_

She locked eyes with Rachel once again.

_I wanna tell her that I love her, But the point is probably moot_

Turning to grab the guitar leaning against the wall, she continued singing as she slipped the strap around her neck.

She started to play, feeling Rachel's eyes on her. Her diva loved music? Then Santana would play her music. Besides, playing the guitar was way hotter than playing the piano. Hell, Santana herself was way hotter than St. Jackass, regardless of what instruments they played.

_And I'm lookin' in the mirror all the time, Wondering what she don't see in me I've been funny, I've been cool with the lines Ain't that the way Love supposed to be_

Santana put all of herself in the song, because the lyrics were absolutely true. Go figure that the only person her moves didn't work on would be the only person she wanted more than anything in the world.

She watched as realization dawned on Rachel. She could see it as the diva thought back to all their interactions, all the flirting that had taken place since they had become friends.

_Tell me, where can I find a woman like that_

Letting her fingers do all the work, she continued the guitar solo and looked at Rachel, who was taking turns staring alternatively at Santana's hands, and then her face, fascinated by both. Santana raised an eyebrow and Rachel blushed.

_I want, I want Jessie's girl_

The song ended, but nobody moved. Santana held her breath, looking at Rachel with trepidation. Rachel licked her lips.

Everyone looked between the two girls, waiting for either of them to make a move. Nobody dared to make a sound, in case they ruined the moment.

And then, "Who is Jessie?"

"Finn!"


	7. The climb - Pezberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel/Santana relationship with Rachel/Santana/Artie friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…honestly, I had in mind this scene since forever, and I searched for the song that it would have make more sense to link it at. It doesn't really make sense? Oh, well… *shrugs*
> 
> I don't know a thing about wheelchairs, but I know that some models that can be folded to make the transport easier. Artie has one of those.

"Wow."

"This is beautiful."

Mr. Schuester looked at his Glee kids. They were holding onto the banister, admiring the breathtaking view.

"Was it worth climbing up all those stairs or not?" he prodded, remembering all the whining and complaining he had heard during the trek. He grinned when they all agreed.

They had been admiring the panorama for a while, scattered around, when Mr. Schuester called them. "Everyone here!" He waved his camera. "I want a photo of you all."

"Wait, where's Rachel?" Finn asked, causing everyone to look around.

"Santanas missing too," Puck noted. "What?" he exclaimed as they stared at him. "When I didn't hear Santana chime in with an insult about Rachel being too short to climb the stairs or something like that, I looked for Santana to see if she was feeling well."

"Rachel's legs aren't short," Finn frowned, his eyes then taking a faraway look.

"Oh," Brittany said, remembering. "Then Artie can't come up here either. His legs don't work at all."

They looked at each other, realization dawning on them, and then looked away in embarrassment and shame. They didn't know what to say or or do. Silence fell upon the roof. Then—

"Fuck!"

The swear word broke the silence. They all looked towards the door, where the sound seemed to come from.

"Come on, we're almost there," Rachel said, breathing heavily.

"Did you fatten up, boy?" Santana asked.

"I don't weigh that much," Artie muttered.

"I don't care if it's you or your damn chair, I'm dying anyway."

"Santana, save your breath," Rachel scolded her.

"I swear, if that the door is closed, I will break it down," Santana continued.

"And how do you plan to do that?" Artie was more amused than curious.

"I'll use you as battering ram."

"You wouldn't!" Artie gasped. "Rach, you wouldn't let her, right?"

"It's not like you could escape," Santana carried on. "You're already trapped in my arms." She started laughing, as if she was an evil character from a cartoon.

"Santana, stop laughing. You're jerking him around!" Rachel reprimanded, then noticed the door ahead of them. "Look, it's open."

"Thank God!" Artie exclaimed as they stepped onto the roof. Rachel's and Santana's arms were linked under his thighs, as to form a human chair, and his arms were around the girls' necks.

"Rach, you ready?" Santana asked.

"One moment." Rachel took a deep breath. "Okay. Artie," she said. He took away his arm away from Santana's neck and put it around Rachel's, who shifted on her feet to have a better grip on Artie as he turned his bust towards her.

"Rachel," the diva said, once she felt steady on her feet.

"Artie." The boy followed by saying his own name, and then tightening his hold on Rachel.

"Santana."

As soon as the word left the Latina's mouth, Rachel lifted Artie up, freeing Santana's arms that fled to her back where Artie's wheelchair was strapped, folded on itself. Rachel staggered under Artie's weight, but she soon steadied herself against a wall. Santana, with swift and practiced movements, took off the wheelchair from her back, put it on the floor and unfolded it. She snapped the locks closed so that it would be safe for Artie to sit on it and quickly went to the couple, arms joining Rachel's under Artie to take some of the burden.

"Ready to move?"

"Rachel," was the diva's answer to Santana's question.

"Artie."

"Santana."

They started moving towards the wheelchair and positioned Artie so that he was hovering over it.

"It would be so easy to just dump him right now."

"Last time he bounced off and fell down," Rachel reminded her.

"And I'd rather not repeat the experience," Artie added.

"Too bad," Santana grumbled, as she and Rachel started lowering him.

"You're bitch," Artie said, the light smile on his face betraying the severity of his words.

"You only say that since you've stopped being afraid of your mother"—Santana slid her hands away, leaving Artie to sit in his wheelchair—"or of Rachel." She chuckled at Rachel's glare.

The girls started pushing Artie's wheelchair, each girl having a hand on a handle.

"Thanks for the help, by the way," Santana sneered at the rest of the club who were still watching them, not having moved a muscle.

"Artie—" Mr. Schuester stepped forward.

"Please"—Artie raised a hand to stop him—"don't." He shook his head, almost as if he was too used to it to be disappointed. "Let's just enjoy the view. That's why we're here, right?"

The girls wheeled towards the banister, Rachel on his right and Santana on his left.

"Can you see?" Rachel looked at him.

"Sure," Artie gave her a half-smile. "I'm at the right height," he joked, pointing to the empty space between the railing and the banister.

Rachel frowned and looked at Santana, who had followed the exchange.

"Come on." Santana took a step back and leaned down.

"Put your arms around our necks," Rachel told Artie, imitating Santana.

"Girls, really," he protested.

"Do it yourself, or I'll make you," Santana glared at him. "And I'll probably break your arm while doing it."

Artie huffed. "You're—"

"A bitch, I know," Santana interrupted him. "So what?" she raised an eyebrow, and Artie moved his arms. The girls put an arm around his waist and hoisted him up.

"Wow," he breathed out, finally seeing the view in its entirety.

"Isn't it better?" Rachel asked knowingly.

"Okay," Artie said after a while. "You can put me down,"

"Are you sure?" Rachel looked at him. "We can stay longer."

"No, it's okay. Really." He smiled at her. "After all, it's all the same after a while," he joked. "Besides, I can always continue to enjoy it from my chair, comfortably seated."

"This is how you thank us?" Santana asked, acting affronted, as they lowered him down.

Artie rolled his eyes, but when the girls turned around to continue to look at the view, he grabbed Rachel's left hand and Santana's right and squeezed them. Then he linked their fingers, one by one, exactly like he'd always done since they were little.

He remembered the first time it happened. He was tired of his two best friends making googly eyes at each other but, not having the courage to talk, he had taken their hands and joined them instead, proceededing to announce, "San, Rach like you. Rach, San like you. Now kiss."

And whether it was because he wanted them to make up after a fight, or simply because he loved to play with their fingers, it was something he never stopped doing.

"I think you should be the one to thank me."

Hands linked, Santana and Rachel smiled in response


	8. Uptight (Everything's alright) - Julyberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted the first part as a drabble on tumblr…then I wanted to continue it a bit more, and here we are. Thanks to myxe for the help.

“Thank you.”

“I told you, I do it for everyone who gets an audition.”

“Really?” Rachel propped herself up on her elbow. “You do this”—she let her eyes roam all over Cassandra’s naked body—“with everyone?”

“Shut up, Schwimmer.” The dance teacher pushed her elbow from under her, making her fall back onto the bed.

“You called me Rachel before, in the dance room,” Rachel pointed out.

“My bad. Won’t do it again,” Cassandra retorted dryly. “But seriously, it’s a NYADA tradition.”

“So you always make students think that they messed up, and then that they need to have an impossible routine ready for the next day because you moved their midterms to 6 in the morning, thus making them stay up all night to rehearse, before revealing that it was all an elaborate ruse to get them to their surprise party?”

“No. That was just because I love messing with you,” Cassandra replied with a smirk after Rachel ended her rant.

“You’d think dating a teacher would have its advantages. Why am I even dating you?” Rachel huffed.

“You mean, apart from the mind-blowing sex?”

 

.

 

It had been years since she left NYADA, without graduating. After she got the role of Fanny, the amount of work she found herself burdened with made it impossible for her to continue school. Sometimes she regretted it, but more often than not she was happy about her choice. That role launched the beginning of her career, earning her a Tony nomination the first year, before she had actually won the award the second. After three and a half years she left, ready for new experiences that came in the form of a one year production of West Side Story and then an offer to star in the long-awaited movie version of Wicked.

She left NYADA, but she learnt in that single year more things she had ever learnt during the entire time she attended high school. And some of those more important lessons came from Miss Cassandra July.

Cassandra made her realize that she couldn’t deal with harsh criticisms, especially pointless ones uttered just to hurt her, just relying on the consolation that it was hate spewing from envious, less talented and ‘inferior’ people. But sometimes the criticism came from people who were ‘superior’ to her in age, experience and even talent, and you had to deal with them. She learnt to turn the criticisms into constructive and helpful ones, while ignoring everything else.

Cassandra once told her that NYADA was a family, and that while they would have killed each other to get roles for themselves, they would also celebrate either other’s successes. And then she taught her that the actual business environment was nothing like NYADA, because they would kill to keep you from getting the role, even if they had no chance of getting it themselves, just because they didn’t want you to have too much success. That’s why Rachel was mingling at the party with colleagues and producers, actually standing in a circle with some of them, all the while playing it cool about the fact that the man in front of her was the producer she was on the verge of signing a contract for a new, original play with.

“Oh God!” a blonde actress dramatically gasped.

“It’s Crazy July,” another one muttered.

Rachel calmly took a sip from her drink.

“I can’t believe they allow her to teach.”

“What’s her subject? Failure 101?”

Chuckles went around. Rachel refrained from rolling her eyes, but was grateful that nobody seemed to remember she had Miss July as her teacher and enquired about that. Another confirmation of NYADA being a true family was that while her year-long stunt at the school was a known fact, not a word leaked about her clashing with Cassandra, or even about the teacher’s treatment of her.

“I can’t believe she’s even allowed to step foot in here.”

“Thank God she doesn’t have her cane with her, or then we’d have to worry,” one said, and they continued jesting maliciously.

Rachel remained silent. Cassandra had taught her to pick her battles, to fight only the most important ones and the ones she knew she would win as well as to not defend other people if it would come to her own disadvantage. That wasn’t a lesson which Rachel followed religiously like others, but she could see the merits. Like at that moment, when it just wasn’t worth it.

“They probably made her leave it in the cloakroom.”

“She’s moving towards us,” someone frantically whispered, interrupting the derision fest.

“Cassandra!”

The blonde dancer raised an eyebrow at the loud greeting.

“We were just talking about you,” another actress said, as insincerely as the first.

“All bad things, I hope.” Cassandra smirked.

“Only the worst.”

Cassandra let out a chuckle at the shocked and betrayed expressions of the gossiping group at Rachel’s response.

“Good, I wouldn’t want my reputation to be sullied,” the blonde said, seemingly satisfied.

“Don’t worry,” Rachel reassured her. “The world still thinks you beat students with your favorite cane.”

“I would never mar it like that!” Cassandra gasped melodramatically. “It was a precious gift.”

“I know, considering I bought it for you.”

“Rachel, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?” a question interrupted them, and Rachel could see the audience of their banter was confused and, not understanding what was going on, wanted to move on to another subject.

“I’m having some friends over.” Rachel’s smile became more genuine and less for show at the thought.

“Oh joy,” Cassandra murmured.

.

“So they’re actually coming,” Cassandra stated once she and Rachel were left alone.

“You knew they would. They just needed to confirm they could make it.” Rachel looked at her.

“One could always hope,” the blonde muttered.

“Stop it. I know you like them.”

“I tolerate them, there’s a difference.”


	9. Keep holding on - Faberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Faberry week 2014, 21 june: Nightmare, sort of.

_You’re not alone, together we stand,_

_I’ll be by your side, you know I’ll take your hand_

 

Had Quinn ever thought she would end up in Rachel’s bed?  No, she never thought it would happen.

But did she dream about it? Oh yes, she did! Even if in her dreams she wasn’t living with her because her parents had kicked her out, and she certainly wasn’t about to have a child.

To be honest, her parents would have probably kicked her out anyway if they found out about her feelings for Rachel…and she had dreamt about having a child, but it had been Rachel’s, not Puck’s spawn.

Rachel…she had been Quinn’s anchor through the storm that had became her life.

Rachel, who had feelings for Quinn, and knew that Quinn returned them, but accepted that the blonde wasn’t ready to act on them and that she was going to maintain a boyfriend.

She was the one Quinn ran to, after sleeping with Puck. When she realized how hurtful it had to be for Rachel, it was already too late, the blonde was already in her arms, and she was too selfish to let her go.

Rachel held her hand those interminable minutes, waiting for the pregnancy test, sitting on her bed because she wanted to be there for Quinn and she wasn’t allowed to set foot in the Fabray house.

Then she held her when the result was positive, hugging her so tightly that Quinn didn’t know if she couldn’t breathe because of Rachel’s hold or because of her sobbing.

Quinn knew that Rachel would have been there, holding her hand, while announcing the pregnancy to her parents, facing the Fabrays and their bigotry and their hate, and defying all their rules. That is, if Finn hadn’t ruined everything.

It would forever be a mystery, how he could connect the clues and realize that she was pregnant, and then be so stupid to think that he was the one to impregnate her, in a hot tub, without even touching her. If the result hadn’t been so tragic for her, she would have laughed for days like Santana did. How could she blame her, it was hilarious, even if it ruined her life.

She didn’t have any choice but to move in with Finn. One moment he was singing that stupid song in front of her parents, and the next he was leading her into his house, explaining things to his mom in his usual blubbering way and showing her where she was going to stay.

She knew that she needed to tell the truth, that it wasn’t fair to Finn to take on so much responsibility when the child wasn’t his. And it wasn’t fair to her either, because she hated living with him, having him or his mother hovering over her every single moment, and Finn pawing at her belly and planning their future…once again Rachel came to her rescue.

Rachel took upon herself the task of telling Finn the truth, and all the repercussions that stemmed from it. And then she was there, collecting all Quinn’s things scattered on the Hudsons’ lawn and loading them in her car, while Quinn was sitting in said car waiting for Rachel to take her home,  because the brunette claimed that in her condition the only thing she should be doing is resting.

That’s how Quinn found herself laying on Rachel’s bed, her head in the diva’s lap.

“Sing to me,” came the soft request.

Rachel didn’t have to ask which song. Continuing to run her fingers through blonde hairs, she started humming. 

_Keep holding on…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always English still isn’t my first language, thanks to slackerD for the help.


	10. I say a little prayer - Berrittana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting some drabbles and oneshots written during the years (since S1, so keep that in mind) and never posted. As always, nothing is mine and English still isn’t my first language, so thanks to slacker_d for the help.

“Welcome the new members of New Directions!” Mr. Schuester announced enthusiastically, his arms pointing to the door of the choir room.

“Them?” Kurt’s tone was incredulous and almost disgusted.

“Got a problem?” Santana crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, in challenge.

She felt Brittany and Rachel take a step forward, their arms now touching her back. She fought back a smile: everyone always thought that when they assumed their ‘fighting stance’ they were preparing an attack, instead they got closer to protect her. Not that she needed protection, but it was nice nonetheless.

“But they’re Cheerios!” Mercedes exclaimed.

“Keen observation, Wheezy,” Santana complimented her in a mocking tone.

“Santana,” Mr. Schuester scolded her. “Please, take a seat.”

The girl rolled her eyes but obeyed, leading the other two over to the chairs.

“Good, now,” the teacher started but was interrupted.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mercedes raised her hands. “Why are you here?”

“What’s this, an interrogation?” Santana scowled.

“I thought that this was glee club,” Brittany looked confused, and Santana smiled, because she knew that the blonde wasn’t stupid as everyone thought, that she was actually fooling them all.

“Besides, I thought that Glee club was open to everyone,” Rachel added.

“It is,” Mr. Schuester hurried. “We welcome anyone, right guys?”

Reluctant nods and grumblings followed his question. Santana sat back satisfied, and nodded at Rachel, thankful. Both her and Brittany wouldn’t have had problems answering the question: music was Rachel’s life and she adored singing as much as Brittany loved dancing. If they just let an ounce of the enthusiasm they held for their passion show in their words, nobody would have a problem believing that they had only the best intentions in joining Glee. But if they answered, Santana would have to do the same, and revealing that the reason she joined was simply because Rachel and Brittany had wanted her to wasn’t an option. Santana lived for making her girls happy, but it didn’t mean she wanted people to know it. She had a reputation to maintain! And the girls knew it too.

FLASHBACK

“I don’t know,” Santana sat down. “You took care of the vocals, you did the choreography, and yet I’m the one who sings…it’s not fair.”

“You’re the head cheerleader, we’re the minions,” Santana smiled at Rachel as the shorter girl sat down in her lap. “It wouldn’t be good for your image if someone else sang lead.”

“I know, but you—” Santana started.

“I’m perfectly happy with just being a part of the club. It’ll still be on my transcript even if I’m just swaying in the background.” Rachel waved her concerns away. “I’ll have the rest of my life to be in the spotlight,” she continued, confident.

“I think it’s nice,” Brittany joined the conversation, sitting beside Santana.

“What?”

“You leaving the others space,” the blonde explained. “It’s nice that you do it, because after they hear you sing they won’t have it anymore.”

“Aww,” Rachel brushed her lips against Brittany’s before rubbing their noses together. “You say the sweetest things.”


	11. Smooth criminal - Pezberry

"So…how long have you been fucking?" Puck asked seriously as they finished performing, before wriggling his eyebrows.

"What?" Santana turned to him with a disgusted expression.

"Oh no!" Sebastian shook his head. "I’m gay," he smirked at Blaine and Kurt. "And Santana’s girlfriend would totally skin me alive, and then kill me slowly but painfully," he suppressed a shiver. "That girl is tiny but scary, I tell you," he said serious as death.

"And where would this mysterious girl be?" Kurt asked, clearly not believing anything coming from the Warbler’s lips.

“She ran away with your pants?” Finn added, and everyone chuckled while Santana scowled.

"I bet she’s leaving her hiding spot to come and criticize our performance, pointing out everything that didn’t work," Sebastian rolled his eyes, his annoyance stemming more from having to explain himself to the New Directions than from the expected criticism.

"But it was perfect," Blaine said, and some others nodded.

Sebastian smiled at him, before turning serious. “Because you’d never worked with her.”

"Better than last time, but you still have a lot of room for improvement." A female voice came from behind them.

"Here we go," Sebastian muttered, and indeed she immediately started listing every little detail that wasn’t up to her standards with their voices, pronunciations, choreography, and timing.

“That being said,” the girl turned to Santana and beamed at her. “You were amazing. Using the word you love so much…you were a real badass.”

“Rachel, what about me?” Sebastian pouted, but his lips twitched in amusement waiting for the remark he knew was coming, and watching the self-proclaimed badass melting in a puddle in front of her girlfriend.

“Why would I want to watch you when I can watch her?” Rachel put an arm around Santana’s waist, and Santana looked down at her smiling lovingly, before taking off her hat and putting it on Rachel’s head.

“You’re Rachel Berry, from Vocal Adrenaline,” Kurt stated.

“You are correct, Mr. Hummel,” Rachel nodded, still not leaving Santana’s side.

“The National champions?” Finn asked, remembering his brother talking at length about that choir.

Surprised, Kurt nodded while asking, “How do you know my name?”

“I like to know my competition. And the people my girl deal with every day. You know, just in case,” she shrugged, but her eyes glinted in determination. 

“Why does it sound like a threat?” Finn wondered aloud.

Rachel gave them a feral smile “Because it is.”


	12. My man - Faberry

“Remember boys, it will be an elegant event, so bow or tie is mandatory,” They groaned at Mr. Schuester’s words. “And girls, tell the same to your dates if they aren’t students here,” The girls nodded. “I’m going to talk to the principal about spreading the news about the party and the clothing requirement. You can go,” he smiled before leaving the choir room.

“So Quinn,” Kurt leaned towards her. “Are we finally gonna meet this mysterious fiancée of yours?”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “I really don’t understand your fascination with the matter. We are dating and we’re gonna get married. Simple as that. Nothing strange,” she said, standing up with her things and leaving the room.

“Nothing strange, she says,” Kurt repeated, incredulous.

“Well, who isn’t engaged to someone your father chose for you?” Mercedes said sarcastically.

“I always thought that arranged marriages were—”

“Only in old times,” Finn interrupted Tina.

“Or for royals,” Sugar added dreamily.

“Quinn looks like a princess,” Brittany piped up.

“He’ll never have guns like these,” Puck showed his biceps. 

“I can beat him up,” Finn cracked his knuckles.

“I’m going to sing to her,” Sam declared.

Their friends rolled their eyes. The boys had been pursuing Quinn since high school started, trying to get noticed and possibly a date. And they didn’t stop once rumors about Quinn being engaged got around. They actually confronted her, during a Glee practice, and Quinn’s confirmation, probably led by the hope that it would put a halt to their attempts, didn’t deter them. No, they were convinced that since it was an arranged marriage Quinn was miserable and that it was their duty to show her that they would be a better boyfriend than whoever her father had chosen for her. Not that Quinn seemed unhappy, some mused, but then again, it was hard to read Quinn, she was usually impassible.

.

Quinn was taking her time refilling her glass. Her friends were hounding her with questions about her fiancée’s absence and she had heard Finn, Puck and Sam discussing about asking her to dance and who would ask first and who would she choose and…Quinn felt the hair of her neck rising and the loud noises of the party decreased into hushed whispers.

“Always a diva,” Quinn shook her head, smiling, and moved back towards her table. Soon she was joined by the person who got had caused the disruption. A petite brunette wearing black tailored pants, a white shirt, a burgundy vest and a tie walked up to her and smiled shyly. 

“Sorry.”

“Fashionably late I see,” Quinn looked at her.

“Yeah, sorry, I,” she scratched her head and adjusted her pony tail “Had some problems.”

“Knotting your tie?” the blonde smiled.

Seeing that Quinn was teasing her and that she wasn’t angry, the other girl relaxed. “As if! Living with two men I learned to do it when I was two,” she ignored Quinn rolling her eyes. “I had to convince daddy that I didn’t need a top hat to complete the look.”

“By the way, why are you dressed like this, Rach?”

“You said that your teacher said that your date should wear a bow or tie…and bows make me appear shorter,” Rachel shrugged as Quinn laughed. “Why, don’t you like it?” she pouted.

“I do,” Quinn kissed her on the cheek and hugged her. “If you don’t want to be subjected to an interrogation I suggest we vanish now,” she whispered in her ear before stepping out of her arms.

“Well, milady,” Rachel took hold of Quinn’s hand and brought it to her lips. “May I have this dance?”

.

“Ehm, ehm.”

Rachel and Quinn had yet to stop dancing when Principal Figgings tapped on the microphone on the little stage built for the occasion.

“May I have your attention please?”

All the couples stopped dancing and turned towards him.

“Thank you. As you all know, this delightful gathering has been sponsored by Mr. Al Motta, Sugar Motta’s father. Please, show your appreciation to Mr. Motta with your applause,” he started, leading the students into a not really enthusiastic round of applause. “Now Mr. Motta, to show his heartfelt patronage of the arts, has decide to institute a talent competition,” The students started murmuring. “That it will take place tonight,” The excitation raised. “And the winner will get a Ya-ma-ha piano generously donated by Mr. Motta,” Everything else Figgins said was lost in the loud chaos that his announcement had caused.

“You want it?” Rachel asked Quinn, seeing the glint in the blonde’s eyes.

“No,” Quinn shrugged, looking away for an instant. “I already have a piano.”

Rachel scrunched her nose. “Liar,” she poked at Quinn. “Tell me the truth.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind getting a new piano…” she admitted.

“Consider it yours then,” Rachel kissed her quickly before dispersing in the crowd, Quinn assumed to sign up.

“Where did your fiancée go?”

Quinn closed her eyes. Right. This was why they had been on the dance floor all the time.

“Yeah, we want to meet her.”

“Make sure that she is right for you.”

“What’s her name?”

“Rachel.”

“She seems cute.”

Quinn turned towards the stage where the first contestant was being introduced. Well, it seemed as they didn’t really need her to answer their questions.

“Why do they even want a piano when they’re completely tone deaf?” Kurt wondered aloud after yet another disastrous performance that had more than half of the audience covering their ears trying to tune her out.

As new notes resounded Kurt groaned. “No, Barbra, no, please. Please, don’t butcher her,” he moaned. “Spare her!”

“Are you okay?” Brittany asked worried.

“They are going to perform a Streisand’s song. From Funny girl,” Blaine explained his boyfriend’s distress. “My man.”

“Oh no, she didn’t,” Quinn muttered. “Yeah, she did,” she smiled as she heard Rachel’s voice.

“It’s bad that I found it hot?” Tina asked.

“I’m gay and I’m turned on!”

Quinn glared at Kurt and then at Tina.

“Hey.”

“My Man, Rachel, really?”

“I thought it was fitting,” Rachel shrugged.

“Quinn isn’t a man.”

Everyone looked at Finn.

“I know,” Rachel ground out, sparing him just a glance. “But one. This song wasn’t to express my love for Quinn. She knows that, and there are better choices for that, in my opinion, anyway. And two. Changing man with woman would have messed up everything, from the lyrics to the rhymes to the rhythm.”

“Beside you would never do such a thing with a Barbra song,” Quinn teased her.

“Yeah, that too,” Rachel agreed with Quinn, blushing a bit. “And well, Quinn wanted that piano, so I brought out the big guns. Barbra is my to-go artist for important occasions.”

Quinn stared lovingly at Rachel, before grabbing her by her tie and kissing her senseless.


	13. Need you now - Brittberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rachel/Brittany, Rachel/Puck siblings

“Mr. Schue, is it a problem if my sister stays here till we finish? She’ll arrive soon and I’m her lift home,” Puck asked at the start of Glee practice.

“You have a sister?” Kurt asked surprised.

“Sure, but I didn’t know you had a sister,” the teacher said, and saw everyone nodding in agreement.

“Rachie is coming?” Brittany clapped her hands excited.

“You’re the only one who calls her Rachie,” Puck shook his head good naturally.

“She is tiny, and cute, and I love playing with her,” Brittany smiled.  

“She loves playing with you too,” he tried his best not to leer at that. It was his little sister, for God’s sake, but Brittany always offered him golden opportunities, it was a shame to let them go.

The others watched the exchange curious and a bit confused at why Brittany knew Puck’s sister when they didn’t, but they let it go soon and started the meeting.

Mr. Schuester was talking when a knock interrupted him.

“Come in,” Brittany yelled, and they looked at her strangely, except Puck, who knew that Rachel wouldn’t just barge into the choir room like everyone else did.

“Hello,” a girl with the shortest jeans shorts ever produced appeared in the doorway. Sneakers and a too large t-shirt that hung on one side of her middle arm, leaving her shoulder bare, completed the look.

“Yo, Baby Sis,” Puck waved at her, and patted the chair beside him.

“Really Noah, must you use that abominable language every time? I really hoped that at school you’d at least speak more appropriately,” Rachel huffed, then waved at those present and moved towards Noah.

“You know me,” Puck shrugged, a smirk on his face, knowing how much his speech annoyed her.

“Unfortunately,” Rachel sighed. “Brit,” she put a hand on her shoulder on her way to her chair, and the blonde patted it, smiling at Rachel. “I don’t know why I still bother,” Rachel continued talking to her brother.

“Because you love me,” Puck grinned, before frowning. “Don’t you have a jacket? You’re practically naked.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with the other girls.”

“Well, the other girls aren’t my baby sister,” Puck retorted.

“One year, Noah, one year,” Rachel was interrupted by a cough. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disrupt your meeting. Please, continue as if I wasn’t here.”

“Why is he the lead?” Rachel leaned towards Puck as Finn finished his song.

 “Seniority?” he seemed to think and then shook his head. “No, Artie was there from the start…you know, I don’t know.”

“What?”

Puck smiled at the outrage in her voice, and on her face too, and thanked God that she didn’t go to McKinley.   She firmly believed that everyone had to earn their places, and that you needed to work hard to get what you wanted. She would go crazy in a place where her efforts and her talents wouldn’t be recognized appropriately.

“Is there a problem?” Mr. Schuester asked, and they realized that everyone was looking at them.

“I was merely enquiring about the process that led to the assignment of the leads,” Rachel smiled pleasantly.

“What?”

“Well, I suppose you held auditions and then decided,” Rachel looked at them. “What?” she turned to Puck, who was shaking his head.  “You didn’t have auditions?” she asked surprised, and Puck hid a smile. He knew what she was doing, and it was exactly the reason at why he was shaking his head.

“Puck never sings,” Finn said, as if it would explain everything. 

Rachel sighed, glancing at her brother: she never understood his lack of ambition. “Just because he doesn’t, it doesn’t mean he can’t. But I see that you don’t believe me,” she continued. “Please, allow me to prove my words.”

She stood up. “Noah?”

“Mr. Schue?” he looked at the teacher who nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Rachel handed him the guitar, and signaled him to bend down a bit; when he did, she whispered in his ear the song they were going to sing.

He started playing.

_Picture perfect memories_

_Scattered all around the floor._

_Reaching for the phone cause,_

_I can’t fight it anymore._

_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind_

_For me it happens all the time_

As Puck joined her, their voices blended effortlessly, before  he sang his lines.

_I need you now_

Everyone clapped.

“This was very good, Puck,” Mr. Schuester stood up.

“Hudson it seems that you have competition,” Santana smirked at Finn.

Brittany skipped to the pair still at the center of the room, and kissed Rachel, who didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around the blonde and kiss her back.

“What?” Puck asked once they came up for air. “No kiss for me?”

Rachel kept an arm around Brittany’s waist, but turned to her brother. “Get your own girlfriend!”


	14. Don't rain on my parade - Berrittana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same universe of ‘Say a little prayer’

“That was my song!” Mercedes almost screamed. “What we are we going to do now?”

“Sing another,” Santana shrugged. “What?” she asked seeing the incredulous looks on her teammates’ face.

“I didn’t prepare another song.”

“Are you telling me that none of you have a song ready?” Santana couldn’t believe to her ears. “Kurt?”

“It wouldn’t be up to par,” he shook his head.

“So you aren’t even going to try? Anybody?” Santana looked around the room, as everyone looked down, uncomfortable.

“And get blamed when we lose?” Puck said what everyone else was thinking.

“But we’ll lose anyway, if we don’t have three songs.”

They shrugged.

“No wonder you’re such losers,” Santana spit out.

“Santana!” Ms. Pillsburry reprimanded her.  She had remained silent during the discussion because she felt it wasn’t her place to talk, since she was just accompanying them as a favor for Mr. Schuester.

“It’s true! They’re just accepting that they’re going to lose without even trying, as spineless—” Santana stopped, feeling an hand on her arm. “Sorry Brit,” she apologized.

“Well, what’s your genial plan?” Mercedes sneered, crossing her arms.

“I got it,” Santana sneered back. “Leave it to me,” she stood up, and left the room, Rachel and Brittany on her tail.

“What are you going to sing?” Rachel asked, once they found an empty spot to talk, her mind already coming up with suitable songs and arrangements.

“You mean, what are you,” Santana looked at her. “Going to sing,”

“What?” Rachel spluttered.

“You’re the best,” Brittany agreed with Santana.

“But I—”

Santana put her hands on Rachel’s shoulders. “If there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you.”

“Yeah, your motto is ‘Always be prepared’,” Brittany nodded.

“That’s the boy scouts’ motto,” Rachel corrected her, before turning to Santana. “I don’t even know—”

Santana interrupted her. “What about that song you’ve been working on since you were four?”

“You want me to sing that?” Rachel was surprised. “It doesn’t really fit with the other songs.”

“Exactly. And it will blow them away,” Santana sounded so sure that Rachel found herself nodding.

“I know that you can do it,” the Latina looked straight in her eyes.

“You’ll protect me if they get angry?”

“Let them try,” Brittany growled.

Santana smiled, hugging her girls. “Yeah, like Brit said.”

.

The New Directions headed to the backstage after two songs.

“Santana!” Mercedes hissed, grabbing her arm. “What are you doing here?”

“First of all, let me go,” Santana removed Mercedes’ fingers from her arm one by one. “If you don’t want me to break them.”

Mercedes obeyed, not wanting to tempt her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Kurt sided up with his best friend.

“Really?” Santana raised an eyebrow.

“You’re sab- sabo,” Finn pointed his finger towards her.

“Sabotaging?” Santana supplied, smirking.

“Yes!” he yelled, even if it was muffled by Puck’s hand on his mouth.

“Dude! Do you want everyone to hear?” the Mohawk said.

“You’re sabotaging us?” Mercedes and Kurt exclaimed at the same time.

“I knew it, I said it from the start, but no, they,” Mercedes started to rant.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Santana silenced her with a murderous glare as she heard the opening notes.

_Don’t tell me not to live, just sit and putter_

A smile took over Santana’s face as she leaned back against Brittany, who had joined her as soon as she had heard the music and had wrapped her arms around Santana’s waist and rested her head on the shorter girl’s shoulder. Together they basked in the marvel that was their girlfriend’s voice; they heard it every day, but they would never get tired of it.

“Rachel!” Ms. Pillsbury exclaimed when Rachel joined them as the standing ovation finally ended. “I never knew you could sing like that.”

Nods went all around.

“I knew!” Brittany skipped to the brunette and planted a kiss on her lips, before spinning her around.

“Is Santana crying?” Kurt elbowed Mercedes.

“Do you want to die?” the girl whispered to him, because, damn, the girl was scary.

“San,” Rachel opened her arms once Brittany put her down. They hugged, then Rachel leant back and dried Santana’s cheeks with her thumbs. “Did you get something in the eye?” She asked softly, wanting to know if she had moved her girlfriend so much, but also not wanting to embarrass her by making her admit that she had shed tears.

“Your awesomeness.”

"That’s not a word,” Rachel shook her head, smiling, falling back in their usual banter about language propriety and things like that.

“Would it be cheesy if I were to say that there are no words to describe you, so I need to make them up?”

“Yes,” Brittany nodded.

“Okay,” Santana shrugged. “I won’t say it then,” she smiled at Rachel, before leaning her forehead against Rachel’s. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I,” whatever Rachel wanted to say went lost as both her and Santana yelped, feeling their feet leaving the floor. Brittany kept them lifted in the air for few seconds, before putting them down again, but she kept her arms around both girls. Yeah, being the taller and stronger one had advantages, the blonde smiled to herself.

“Brittany! Warn us before!”

“And where is the fun in that?”


	15. Uptown girl - Pezberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brittany/Puck too.

“Pretty please,” Brittany pleaded.

Santana sighed. “But why? Here is perfect,” she waved her hand motioning to the big garden with pool, where they were lounging. “Why would you want to go there?” she spat the last word.

“I want to see Puck.”

Santana rolled her eyes. Of all the boys of their circle, Brittany had to like Puckerman. The only way his Mohawk could step foot in their neighborhood or their houses was to clean one of their pools.)

“Please,” Brittany pouted. Then, seeing that Santana didn’t relent, she straightened. “I’ll go alone then.”

The Latina took off her sunglasses to look at her best friend. “You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me,” Brittany raised her chin defiantly, before standing up.

Santana didn’t need time to think. She knew that she couldn’t let her go to Lima Height Adjacent alone. “Wait, I’ll come too!”

“Where are we going?” Santana asked, looking around. She was trying to look as confident as ever, but she never liked going there without the guys. Finn, Sam, Blaine, Kurt and the others were pretty useless, and she was sure those prissy boys would get KO’d in less than two minutes if attacked, but she felt more secure anyway, surely more than venturing onto the wrong side of the tracks with just Brittany.

“His text said to look for the pool.”

“How nice,” Santana said sarcastically. “One pool for…how many people? He should have come to ours. After checking it we could have let him use it…if he did a good job.”

“Just because he isn’t rich it doesn’t mean-”

“I know,” Santana interrupted her speech, having already heard it every time she commented on their social disparity. “Look, here we are. Now what?” she asked, crossing her arms and glaring at whoever dared to look at her.

“Uhm,” Brittany looked around, before lighting up. “There,” she pointed towards some cement with two baskets at each end. Indeed Santana could see Puckerman’s stupid hair from here.

“Let’s go!” Brittany exclaimed, taking hold of Santana’s wrist and dragging her.

.

“Isn’t he hot?”  Brittany sighed, looking at the boy playing basketball without shirt.

“Whatever,” Santana rolled her eyes, scowling. She had better things to do than this. The only entertaining thing was watching as the midget girl slipped away from guys twice as tall and larger than her. Said girl had to have scored the final point because when Santana looked at the game again, the girl, they called her Rach, so Santana thought her name was Rachel, was met with one-armed hugs and slap on the back.

“Lover boy,” a guy who Santana knew was named Dave Karosfky punched Puck’s shoulder. “Your girl is here,” he pointed toward the girls.

Brittany blushed as Puck’s friends turned to look at her and whistled, but she moved towards them before stopping again. Puck smiled at the blonde and passed a hand through his Mowahak. He had just started to jog  towards the girls when he was hit on the head by a towel. He turned around to glare at whoever did it.

“Clean up a little, you reek so bad she’ll never want to see you again,” Rachel said.

“If she doesn’t die from the stench.”

“Asphyxia.”

“Yeah, that was what I meant.”

Puck smiled  gratefully at  the girl before flipping his friend the middle finger . He went to grab a bottle of water and poured it on his head.

“Oh my God,” Brittany whimpered, her hand squeezing Santana’s arm. “He’s coming,” she squeezed harder as Puck moved towards them using the towel to dry himself. “How do I look?”

.

“He’s so whipped!”

Santana stopped behind a tree.

“Oh Brittany,” a guy mocked, using a shrill voice.

She glanced at her best friend, to make sure that everything went alright while she was away for few minutes, and remained hidden, curious to know what Puck’s friends were saying.

“Yup, totally wrapped around her pinkie.”

 “You know,” the girl started. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“What? Getting a girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“One of those uptown girls?”

“Why not?” Santana could picture the girl shrugging. “It’s not like there are girls in our group anyway.”

“Mike took the only one.”

“Shut up, Dave, you’re gay, what do you care?”

“Leave Tina alone.”

“Besides,” the girl interrupted the bickering. “Brittany’s friend is hot.”


	16. Greased Lightning - Rachel/Sugar

“Dad!” Kurt called, standing outside ‘Hummel Tires & Lube’.

“Kurt,” Burt greeted him. “Shouldn’t you already be on the road for your trip?”

“Yes, but we had a little problem with the car, and-”

“Impossible, I checked it yesterday,” Burt frowned. He owned an auto repair shop, for God’s sake, and he checked his only son’s car every month and every time he needed it for a longer than the usual trip.

“Not my car, Puck’s truck,” Kurt pointed to the Mohawk boy.

The man glared at him, before looking at Kurt worriedly, knowing about his son’s bullying.

“Don’t worry, dad, we’re all in Glee together, now,” Kurt reassured him, and Burt relaxed before looking at Kurt’s company and frowning again. “It’s a Glee trip?”

“Yes, we thought it would be a good way to bond, don’t you agree?” he gestured to the boys and the girls standing behind him.

Burt’s answer was halted by a car arriving and repeatedly honking. The man shook his head, a little smile on his lips, and turned to look inside his shop, as someone rolled out from under a car and picked up a baseball cap, pulling it over their eyes.

Puck whistled as he recognized the feminine form, and Burt glared at him.

“Is she new?” Kurt asked his dad, as the girl approached the car wiping her hands on a cloth, leaving black stains on it, before tucking them into the back of her pants.

“Not really,” Burt replied, watching her open the hood and fiddling around for a few moments.  Then she closed the hood, patted it and went back inside the shop, waving at the client.

The driver got out of the car, wallet in hand, and went toward Burt. “How much?” he asked, opening the wallet.

“Please, Carl,” Burt scoffed, waving him away. “It didn’t even take two minutes.”

“Yes, but-” the client tried to insist.

“Really, you don’t have to pay, it was nothing.” 

Carl  sighed, knowing it was a lost cause. Then he looked at Burt, smiling. “Okay,” he drawled. He took a bill from his wallet. “For the girl, she is amazing.”

“I really hope you’re talking about her work,” Burt crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Certainly. But you can’t blame me for enjoying the view,” Carl said. “But no touching,” he raised his hands. “I know. Beside I have my woman. But she,” he nodded towards the shop, where the girl was working. “Is something else.”

“I know. Sorry,”  Burt apologized. “It’s not that I think you would,” he waved an hand around . “But I worry.”

“I get it, no harm,” Carl smiled. “But give this to her,” he slipped the bill into Burt’s shirt’s pocket.

“Dad?” Kurt shifted impatiently once the client left. “Could you look at the truck, please?”

“Sure, just let me,” Burt turned and yelled. “Rach!”

The girl looked up from the car and made her way toward the man. She took off the hat and wiped the sweat off her forehead. “Yes?”

“Rachel?” Finn exclaimed, covering with his hands his crotch.

“Hot Jew, Berry,” Puck leered at her originally white tank top, now dirty and slightly transparent for the perspiration.

“Hello,” a nod was all the consideration given them, before turning to Burt. “Yes, boss?” she smiled at him, teasingly.

Burt rolled his eyes at the title, but picked the bill from his pocket. “This is yours.”

Rachel plucked it from his fingers. “Thank you.”

“I swear with your tips you almost make more than me.”

She shrugged, and put the bill in her backside pocket.

“They’re having some trouble with the truck, can you look at it?” Burt asked her.

“I’m not sure that it would be a good idea.”

“Why?” the man frowned.

“I wouldn’t want to be accused of sabotage.”

“Of what?”

“The car? Their trip?”

“And why would you want to do that?” Burt asked confused.

“As a petty form of revenge to vindicate my exclusion from the club activity?” Rachel shrugged.

“What did she said?” Finn whispered loudly to Puck.

“Something about getting back at us because we didn’t invite her, I think,” he answered.

“How does she know, though?” Finn wondered aloud at the same time as Burt repeated harshly. “You didn’t invite her?”

“Just because you didn’t tell me, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t hear about it. I heard you discussing it and when you stopped talking about it as soon as you noticed me, I surmised you didn’t want to include me,” Rachel rolled her eyes.

“And you’re okay with it?” Burt was confused at her indifferent attitude.

“It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last,” Rachel shrugged. “If that’s all, I’ll get back to my work.”

“I think someone wants to talk to you, first,” he nudged her. A girl in a shiny expensive sports car waved at Rachel shyly.

“Go get them, tiger.”

Rachel wacked Burt with her hat, but moved towards the car, a smile on her lips. “Sugar!”

.

Burt was working on Puck’s truck when he saw out of the corner of his eye Rachel passing. “What did your girl want?”

“She is not my girl,” Rachel protested half-heartily.

“Rach…she brings her car, new car, if I may add, here every week for a checkup, and insists that you to be the only one to perform it. If the weather is bad, rain, snow, wind, too cold, or even too hot, she comes to pick you up and take you home so you won’t have to walk…and she lives on the other side of Lima. She knows your schedule by heart. She convinced all her friends to bring their cars here for repairs and checkups. Do I need to go on?” he teased her

Rachel shook her head, blushing.

“So why she was here this time?” he was curious.

“To thank me for the last time,” Burt nodded. “And offering to buy me dinner to repay the favor,” she rushed out.

Burt raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you know how Sugar is,” Rachel chuckled.

“Oh, I know,” Burt laughed. “How was it…” he trailed off.

“Sugar gets what Sugar wants?” Rachel supplied him.

“And she wants you,” he patted her back. “Now, go. Less gossip and more work.”

“Yes, boss,” Rachel called over her shoulder laughing.

“Sugar, what a stupid nickname.”

“I like it,” Brittany pouted.

“It’s not a nickname,” Burt said, looking at them. “That girl? She’s Sugar Motta.”

“Motta?” Mercedes repeated

“Like Motta’s Piano?” Kurt asked. “The infamous and mysterious daughter of Al Motta, richest man of Lima?”

“Yes,” Burt let the hood of the trunk close with a bang that make all the kids jump. He smirked. “This is done. But we are not.” He zeroed in on his son. “She might be okay with this, but I’m not.” His eyes swept over the group of teenagers. “We’ll talk about it.”


	17. Thriller/Heads will roll - Pezberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Rachel’s costume for the performance.

“Hey Rach!” Finn greeted her with a dopey smile, that looked totally out of place on his Frankenstein costume.

“Hello Finn,” she smiled back politely, before taking a sip from her drink, making certain that her dark red lipstick wouldn’t rub off completely.

“Is this leather?” he touched her black corset.

She took a step back. “Faux leather, you know how I feel about animals products.”

“Yeah, all that vagon stuff,” he nodded. “I remember,” he added proudly.

“Vegan, Finn, vegan!” Rachel huffed.

He flushed. “You are very black,” he tried again, after few seconds of silence, glancing at the long black skirt and black knee-high, high-heeled boots.

“I hope so,” she smirked.

“False leather too?”

“Faux, but yes,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yo, Berry, rocking the crazy chick look,” Puck winked at her, passing, and ruffled her already disheveled hair, that along with the silver streaks, completed her look.

“I don’t see a lot of difference,” Quinn smirked, before following the host of the Halloween party.

“So…you are dressed as…” Finn wondered.

“Try to guess,” Rachel said, before deciding to help him. “She is completely deranged, that means crazy if you’re wondering,” Finn nodded, relieved that she explained it. “She loves insulting people, torturing them…she adores violence.”

“You look nothing like Santana.”

Rachel burst out laughing, before realizing that Finn wasn’t joking. “Forget it,” she stomped away. “I suddenly understand the appeal of Cruciatus,” she muttered to herself.

“Getting into the role?”

Rachel spun around, wand pointed towards Santana. The Latina looked at her and then at the wand, raising an eyebrow, before bringing a hand to the wand and lowering it.

Rachel scanned the girl in front of her: high heeled sandals, an oriental looking skirt, a bra with fringe that exposed her bare stomach and a veil on her head. She grimaced at the dummy  head Santana was holding by the hairs. “Salomé?”

“How did you?” Santana looked surprised.

“Jewish,”  was the only thing Rachel said to explain, pointing to herself. “Nice costume, anyway.”

“Yours too,” Santana took a step forwards. “You know, she was my favorite character,” she whispered in her ear.

“Why am I not surprised?” Rachel’s sarcasm was ruined by the shiver that ran through her body at Santana’s closeness.

“Is that your wand or are you just happy to see me?”

Rachel looked at her incredulously.

“Sorry,” Santana for a moment looked sheepish. “I couldn’t help it. But really,” she traced Rachel’s corset with her fingers. “Want to go somewhere more private?”

Rachel didn’t move away like she did with Finn, she just tilted her head. “I don’t know,” she sounded unsure, but her actions didn’t reflect her tone, her nose purposely grazing against Santana’s collarbone. “I wouldn’t want to end up like John.”

Santana looked down at her confused, and Rachel nodded towards the head still dangling from Santana’s hand, the one that wasn’t holding on her waist.

“Oh,” Santana laughed. “You’re a dork.”

“Me!” Rachel exclaimed. “You’re the one who chose a biblical seductress as Halloween costume! Tell me how many people recognized it.”

Santana didn’t answer, but took a step back.

“See,” Rachel gloated.

“There were interested in something else,” the Latina performed a couple of moves very similar to belly dance ones, before turning around and moving towards the door.

“Not that I blame them,” Rachel muttered.

“Are you coming?” Santana gave her an heated glance over her shoulders. “My Bella.”

“You know that my complete name is Bellatrix, it comes from Latin and means  female warrior, and it’s not the Italian word that means beautiful, right?” Rachel spouted off, while following Santana up the stairs.

“Are we really going to talk about it?” Santana whirled around and pinned the shorter girl against the wall. “Because I can think of better things to do,” she trailed off, suggestively.

“No,” Rachel gasped out.

“I thought so,” Santana grabbed her wrist with a satisfied grin. “Let’s go make some magic.”

“Santana,” Rachel whined, following her while the girl searched an empty room.

“What?”

“No more wands or magic jokes,” Rachel warned her. “Or you’ll be suffering from a dry spell.”


	18. Love song - Faberrez/Fapezberry

Rachel entered her apartment only to see that instead of Kurt, Santana and Quinn waiting for her.

“Oh my God! What are you doing here?” she asked after hugging them.

“An emergency intervention,” Santana crossed her arms.

“For who?” Rachel looked at her confused.

“You,” Quinn raised an eyebrow, daring Rachel to say anything. “Did you really think that you could tell us you were going to do a nude scene and expect us to just do nothing?”

“So let me get this straight: you guys came all the way to New York just to talk to me out of it?” Rachel didn’t know if she should be happy or annoyed.

“We’re also here to shop,” Santana plopped down on the couch.

”And we’re here to apologize to Quinn for slapping her across the face very, very hard,” Quinn added, mocking Santana.

“In theory. We’ll just see if that happens,” Santana shrugged, smirking, before becoming serious. “Rachel, you cannot do a nude scene.”

“ It’s not a nude scene, it’s just a topless scene.”

“Same thing. Topless is more nude than I want anyone to ever see you.

“Let’s say you do it,” Quinn interrupted Santana “Think about the two-two-two rule. In two weeks, how are you going to feel about the nude scene?”

“You’ll probably feel pretty great.”

“Yeah,” Rachel agreed with Santana.

“You’ll get to feel a nice, cool breeze on them skeeter bites, you’ll feel refreshed, even.”

Quinn rolled her eyes but continued. “Then, how are you going to feel about it two months from now?”

“I don’t know. Nervous? Worried it may not even be good?”

“Rachel, it’s a student film. It’s not going to be good,” Santana shook her head.

“And two years from now? How you going to feel about it then?” Quinn insisted.

”Guilty. Just… hoping ou- my kids won’t ever see it online.”

“Oh, they’ll see it,” Santana assured her. “And they will never be the same. And we’ll have to deal with them.”

“Okay, wait.” Rachel stopped smiling. “Why am… why am I even taking advice from you? Didn’t you have a sex tape that leaked online? Besides, we’re not even together anymore, why should I care about what you think?”

“Yes, I did,” Santana ignored the last part. “A sex tape that follows me around to this very day. Look my name up on internet right now.”

"Santana Lopez, nude, lez, boobies, sex tape, Mexican or Dominican, question mark." Rachel read from her cell phone frowning.

“Booyah. That will exist forever.”

“But Santana, some women find it empowering to be naked on film.”

“Yes, but not in a student film that is probably about someone’s grandma with Alzheimer’s.”

“Look, I know that we agreed that breaking up was the best thing. And that each of us have tried to move on,” Quinn took Rachel’s hand.

“Some more appropriately than others,” Santana quipped and the blonde glared at her, before continuing. “But I think I speak for all of us when I say that we still love each other.”

“Rachel, we only have your best interests in mind,” Santana took Rachel’s other hand.

“Please don’t do it,” Quinn pleaded.

“Do you really still love me?” Rachel asked shyly.

“Yes,” both girls answered.

“Are you saying you don’t?” Quinn looked at her, nervous.

Rachel squeezed the girls’ hands. “I do.”


	19. A boy like that - Pezberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Tonight

“Do we still have time to replace Tony?”

“Not with a girl.”

“I know what it was lacking.”

Everyone started talking together, commenting what they had just seen and heard.

“I really don’t know why you’re so surprised, haven’t you seen their rehearsal? Because I’m pretty sure that in the real thing Anita isn’t supposed to be jealous of Maria,” Brittany said, frowning.

“What are you talking about?” Artie asked her.

“Where were you when they did their duet?” she looked around, before turning to his boyfriend. “Aren’t you like..the director?”

“Yeah,” he said, sheepishly.

“I thought that Rachel told you they were going to practice.”

“I did,” Rachel confirmed, as Santana glared at him, daring him to contradict both the short brunette and Brittany.

Artie said nothing.

“Here,” Brittany said taking a camcorder out of her bag.  “Since you missed it, you can watch it here. Rachel made me record it so she can see where she wasn’t good.”

“Hook it up to the system, so we can all watch it.”

Almost everyone in the room looked at Mr. Schuester with their eyebrows raised, before looking at Brittany, who was looking perplexedly between the camcorder in her hand and the television she was supposed to connect it to.

“I mean, can someone do it?” the teacher corrected himself.

“I don’t think-” Rachel tried to say, but Puck was already standing up and taking the camcorder from Brittany. “I’ll do it,” he said smirking, curious about what his fellow Jew was trying to hide.

“Now tell me you can’t feel their UST.”

“UST?” Emma repeated.

“Unresolved Sexual Tension,” Puck explained, ignoring how red Ms. Pillsbury became.

.

The empty stage of the auditorium appeared on the screen.

“I think it’s recording,” Brittany’s voice said.

“You think?” Rachel asked, without appearing.

“If your notes are right,” Brittany started.

“They are,” was the immediate reply.

“I’m recording. Now what do I do?”

“Say what day it is and the song title.  Then press play and start the music.”

“Okay. Uhm…first day, first try of ‘A boy like that’ for the musical, Rach is Maria, San is Anita, and they are-” 

“Brit,” Rachel’s voice was impatient.  .

“Sorry.  Action!” Brittany said. “I always dreamed of saying that,” she mumbled to herself before the music started.

_A boy like that who’d kill your brother,_  
Forget that boy and find another,   
One of your own kind,   
Stick to your own kind!

Santana advanced towards Rachel, long strides in time with the music.

_A boy like that will give you sorrow,_  
You’ll meet another boy tomorrow,   
One of your own kind,   
Stick to your own kind! 

Each time Santana took a step forward, Rachel took one backwards, so as to keep her distance from the other girl.

  
_A boy who kills cannot love,_  
A boy who kills has no heart.  
And he’s the boy who gets your love   
And gets your heart. 

Santana tapped her forefinger against Rachel’s chest quite forcefully, before getting into Rachel’s face to sing the next line.

_Very smart, Maria, very smart!_

The Latina circled behind the shorter brunette, and then leaned down, singing into her left ear.

_A boy like that wants one thing only,_

And then moving slightly, she practically hissed the next line into Rachel’s right ear.

_And when he’s done, he’ll leave you lonely._  
He’ll murder your love;   
He murdered mine. 

Santana wrapped her arms around Rachel. 

_Just wait and see,_  
Just wait, Maria,   
Just wait and see!   
  
Oh no, Anita, no,   
Anita, no! 

Rachel spun herself from Santana’s embrace,  but kept holding her hands.

_It isn’t true, not for me,_  
It’s true for you, not for me.   
I hear your words   
And in my head   
I know they’re smart,   
But my heart, Anita, 

She brought their joined hands to her chest.

_But my heart_  
Knows they’re wrong   
You should know better! 

She dropped Santana’s hands almost brusquely, as if to push them away from her.

_You were in love - or so you said.  
You should know better … _

Rachel shook her head, disappointed while Santana crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, hurt at the suggestion, and went to sit on the chair.  
  
 _I have a love, and it’s all that I have._  
Right or wrong, what else can I do?   
I love him; I’m his,   
And everything he is   
I am, too. 

Rachel shrugged before sitting on the floor, next to Santana’s chair and leaning against the girl’s legs.

_I have a love, and it’s all that I need,_  
Right or wrong, and he needs me, too.   
I love him, we’re one;   
There’s nothing to be done,   
Not a thing I can do   
But hold him, hold him forever,   
Be with him now, tomorrow   
And all of my life!   
  


Santana slid to the floor, kneeling in front of Rachel and grabbing her hands.

_When love comes so strong,_  
There is no right or wrong,   
Your love is your life.   
  


“Cut!” Brittany yelled and the girls stopped staring into each other’s eyes. They shook themselves from the traced they seemed to be in before they stood up, Santana offering her hand to Rachel.  “So…they get together at the end?”

“What?” Santana looked at her.

“Anita and Maria,” Brittany repeated, not understanding why she was confused. “They get together in the end?”

“Brit, they are friends. Maria loves Tony and Anita loves Bernardo,” Santana explained.

“Oh. Are you sure?”  Brittany replied thoughtfully. “Because it didn’t seem like that.”

“I guess we have to work on this some more,” Rachel blushed, but was calm, and Santana nodded, smiling at her.

“Brit,” Rachel called. “The red light is still on.”

“So?”

“You need to switch the camera off.”

“How do I do that?”

Santana jumped off the stage, then turned towards Rachel stretching her arms out to hold Rachel’s waist and steady her while she jumped.

“You two are so cute,” Brittany gushed as the girls walked towards her. “It’s like she’s the princess and you’re the knight, and you just saved her and now-” 

The video stopped.

.

The room was silent.

“What the hell was that?” Finn bellowed, standing up quickly, his chair tipping over, and taking a step towards Rachel and Santana, who were still in the middle of the room, near the piano.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Santana glared at him, an arm sneaking around Rachel’s waist and pulling the shorter brunette against her, protectively.


	20. All that jazz - Julyberry

"It seems that they liked it," Cassandra commented approaching the podium with the microphone after their performance.

"Indeed," the noise got even louder. "And to think that we weren’t sure about this number…We proposed ‘Take me or leave me’ but they said it wouldn’t have been believable," Rachel added.

"I wonder why,"  the blonde quipped, prodding the audience’s laughter.

"Maybe because the sweetest name you’ve called me in public has been Schwimmer," Rachel turned to look at her.

"You accused me of being an alcoholic."

"I said that I smelt alcohol on your breath, it’s different," the shorter girl pointed out. "But before we delve into one of our epic arguments."

"We can go for hours," Cassandra smirked. "Our neighbors can confirm it." 

"Let’s announce the nominees for this category," Rachel continued.

 .

Clapping welcomed the host after the commercial break.

"The joys of live shows," he started. "It seems that the audience at home caught something we missed…and it’s causing quite a frenzy on the web. Everyone knows what ‘shipping’ means, but have you ever heard about RPF? It stands for Real Person Fiction…and right now, JulyBerry shippers all over the world are rejoicing at the confirmation that all the tension between our divas, Rachel Berry and Cassandra July, wasn’t hate but something else…I see the confusion on your faces," he chuckled, looking around. "To all the tumblers and twitters who wondered if it was staged…I have their script here. And let me tell you something….it wasn’t," he waved the sheet. "Their exchange should have ended at the’ wonder why’. Everything else was their addition." 

 .

"What?" Cassandra asked as Rachel sat on the couch chuckling at her iphone.

"It seems that our ship has sailed."

The blonde glanced at her, before returning to her make-up application. “It has been a while.”

"Not that they could have known."

"What are you doing?" Cassandra glared at Rachel who was snapping a photo.

"Tweeting it?"

"Not like this!" she took her phone away and deleted the photo.

"Cassie, you’re beautiful," Rachel sighed.

"Says the one 10 years younger," the blonde muttered. "Besides, we said that we’d leave together, there will be plenty of photos of us anyway. I’m sure the paps are just waiting for us."

"It’s not the same."

"They are professionals, you’re not. Their photos will be better."

"Thank you," Rachel rolled her eyes. "Forgive me if I’d like for you to be smiling and  happy in our first appearance as a couple," she added after a while. 

"You could always let me run over a couple of them with the car," Cassandra turned towards an unimpressed Rachel. "What? I’m sure I’d  be smiling then." 


	21. Rolling in the deep - Berrittana

                                                               _There’s a fire_

“Fuck,” Santana let herself fall down on the bed, before sitting up. “I get it, I get it,” she mumbled, standing up, the shrill alarm drilling into her brain. She put on the shorts and  t-shirt that were her pajamas at start of the night but had gotten rid of because it was too hot, choosing to sleep just in her underwear. She yawned. She had thought they were joking when, at the reception, they told them that often the fire alarm would go off in the middle of the night, and that although usually it was just some insects getting fried and triggering the alarm, they’d better leave the rooms and follow the fire safety procedures, because ‘you never know…’ Of course they would have found some shitty hotel like that. Sure, they had single rooms, but she wasn’t sure that it was worth being woke up at…Santana looked at the time on the phone: the numbers were fuzzy…right! She put on the reading glasses that were on her bed side and checked again. Four o’clock in the morning.

Rachel closed the door of her room and took a step in the hallway, hands rubbing her eyes. 

“Hey.”

Rachel opened her eyes and tried to focus on the person who had spoke. She looked at Santana for few seconds before widening her eyes and turning on her heels, retreating back into her room.

“Better now?”

Rachel blinked, then smiled. “I see you!”

Santana laughed at the girl wearing plaid pajamas pants and a white top.

“No, really, you were just a blur,” Rachel adjusted the glasses she had retrieved. “I don’t know how I forgot about them. I can’t see further than the end of my nose,” she repressed a yawn.

“And what a nose,” Santana tried to joke, but she was too sleepy to do it properly, just as Rachel didn’t have the strength to reprimand her as usual and settled for a light slap on her shoulder.

“Let’s go seeing what’s going on.”

The brunettes watched as Brittany skipped ahead of them, before coming to an halt as she realized they weren’t following her.

“Why are you so awake?” Santana asked, almost disgusted, and Rachel nodded.

Brittany, pink long pajamas pants and pink top, smiled. “I had just went to bed when the alarm started,” she stared at them. “You have glasses on.”

“Brit,” Santana pushed her glass up. “You know we wear them.”

“Yeah, but you don’t want the others to know.”

Rachel and Santana looked at each other. They hadn’t thought about that. Their teammates would be at the rendezvous point too.

“I really don’t think I can put contacts in right now,” Rachel scratched her head.

“I’ll probably poke my eye out,” Santana concurred.

Brittany looked first at Rachel, then at Santana. “Do you trust me?” she asked.

“Of course,” both replied immediately.

“You don’t even need to ask,” Rachel added.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Brit,” Santana agreed.

The blonde smiled and looked at them dreamily.

“Brittany?” Rachel called softly.

“Right,” she recovered. “Let me,” she trailed off and bringing her hands to Rachel’s face, she took off the glasses. Then she did the same to Santana. “One second!” she run to Santana’s room, that was the closer one, and left both pair of glasses there.

She returned to the brunettes, who were standing still in the middle of the hallway, blinking uncomfortably. She grabbed their hands. “Come on, I’ll guide you.”

“Brittany, please, don’t let me fall down the stairs.”

“Rachel?”

“Yes?”

“It’s four in morning.”

“I know, Santana,” Rachel said clearly, confused.

“Can you please spare us the speech about the devastating consequences your untimely death would have on Broadway and the entire world?”


	22. Hit me with your best shot - Pezberry

The sound of a rifle shot echoed through the air.  Immediately after, the lonely figure on the roof stood, put the rifle in its case, quickly went to the door and descended the stairs. Entering a closet, black shiny shoes were removed to reveal tiny feet, at least a couple of sizes smaller, and the black men’s suit was shed, exposing a feminine body. She put everything in a garment bag.  

Still wearing leather gloves and a balaclava, that exposed only the eyes and the mouth, the woman put on jeans, a pair of high heels, an orange  shirt and a light yellow V-shaped neck sweater. After she put on a striped coat, she took off the balaclava and undid the low bun, letting her brunette hair flow down her shoulders. A pair of mirrored sunglasses was the final touch before she mingled into the crowd of the hotel hall.

She stopped by a large group, putting her baggage near the others on the luggage trolley, and listened to the man speaking.

“The members of the orchestra can follow me.”

On this cue,  she took her things and left.

.

“Miss,” two policemen stopped her. “Your ID, please.”

She frowned, but juggling her garment bag and the case, she rummaged in her oversized bag and took out her ID.

“Rachel Berry,” the officer read, looking between the photo and the woman in front of him.

“Yes.”

He looked at his colleague with questioning eyes.

“Miss Berry, can you open the case?” he asked once his colleague nodded.

Rachel put the case on a car and opened it.

“Do you play violin?” the other policeman asked as he lifted the instrument to check under it.

“I wish. No, I’m only the courier. It’s for my friend.”

“What do you have there?” he nodded towards the clothes bag.

“ A suit.”

The policeman looked at his colleague, who had opened the bag, and he nodded at him before closing it.

“Did something happened?” Rachel asked, but the officers didn’t answer her. “You can go, Miss,” they dismissed her, not looking her in the eyes.

.

Rachel pushed the door open, and a bell chimed, announcing her arrival.

“Good afternoon. How can I help you?” a middle aged woman greeted her.

“Good afternoon. I have to pick up a dress.”

“Name?”

“Berry.”

“One minute please,” the woman disappeared in the back, where rows of dry cleaned clothes were arranged.

Rachel made sure that the owner couldn’t see her, and then moved towards a rack that had dresses, but was mostly men’s suits. Quickly, she replaced the suit from her bag with a similar clean suit from the rack.  She made sure to also switch the identifying receipt on the suits.

“Here,” the owner came back. “This should be your dress, right?”

.

“Good evening, Miss Berry,” the concierge greeted her.

“Good evening. I have some items to drop off,” she smiled.

“I’m sorry, he isn’t at home.”

“Oh. Could I perhaps leave it with you?” she asked, hopeful.

“Certainly. A violin and?” he asked curious.

“A suit,” Rachel grinned.

“I didn’t know he played.”

Rachel shrugged in response. “Don’t ask me. I only got him what he asked. I only hope the suit fits him. Tell him to call me if there are any problems.”

.

“Good evening,” Rachel smiled at her neighbour, as she collected the mail.

The woman looked at her surprised, and then confused.

“What?” Rachel asked puzzled.

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know what?”

“Oh my,” the woman covered her mouth with her hands. “You don’t know…the news…”

Rachel froze for a moment, before dashing up the stairs. Frantically she tried to open the door, finally getting the key in and turning it. Not bothering to remove her coat, she turned the TV on.

“….Santana Lopez, presidential candidate, was shot while she was holding  an electoral meeting. No word on her condition since she was rushed to…”

As soon as the hospital was named, Rachel ran out, the news still on.

.

“Santana Lopez,” Rachel panted at the reception.

“Relation to the patient?” the nurse asked, not looking up.

“Wife.”

“Rachel Berry?” the nurse’s head snapped up.

She nodded.

“Sorry, we had a lot of people asking for her,” the nurse explained. “We tried to call you.”

“My battery died. How is she?”

“You better talk to the doctor.”

DAYS LATER

“When can I get out?” Santana asked the doctor. “I have things to do.”

“You don’t mean…”

“Oh yes, she does,” Rachel shook her head lovingly. “Once she gets something into her head, there is nothing you can do to dissuade her. When she told me she wanted to become president, I told her there was no way a woman, a Latina, a lesbian would win…and here she is, trailing the favorite.”  

“Actually she isn’t.”

“What?”

“Sorry,” the doctor flushed. “Latest polls say she’s winning.”

“I knew that speech was the bomb,” Santana nodded to herself, satisfied.

“I don’t think it was the speech,” the doctor commented as Santana started to fuss with her cell phone.

“As you can see, she never stops,” Rachel smiled at the doctor.

“And you’re just going to let her?”

“I’ll support her, whatever she chooses.” 

“You’re lucky,” the doctor said to Santana.

“I know, my wife is a saint,” she kissed Rachel’s hand. 

“I’m not!”

“To me, you are.” 

“Well, I’ll leave you two..and I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of hours.” 

“Thank you,” Santana whispered once the doctor had left them alone.

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Rachel leaned her forehead against Santana’s. “But please, never ask me something like that again.”

“Being shot twice,” Santana wrinkled her nose. “Nah, you know I don’t like to repeat myself.”


End file.
